Helsinki Poems

Helsinki poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of helsinki poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on helsinki are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!

Being a forest ranger I sense a way to be Observing is my hobby Your hobby: let it be Observing nature bring You all to understand Why would the ancients cling? To worship mother land Wisdom of ancient trees Is

I carry within me the warmth of the sun as the daylight fills my face with radiance. In the midst of it’s glaring beams I let my soul dwell in love and embrace peace. My feet, crafted with gracefulness sturdily

Guiding light of nature, The presence of God for mankind, His enormous love for people, We always leave behind. Never tried to see him, and believed that he doesn’t exist. Never tried to feel him, and believed that he has

Stories comes and go Some fascinating some horrific Shows new journey in new ways Shows new goals to be achieved Achievements to be accomplished Steps towards goal Land of happiness where no went ever Have seen the view But no

Rhetoric had a theme like crab-grass to destroy the lawn. Fly ash had submerged the legacy of sane lips. The river drifts between the broken walls of binge soaring. Tension was descending in the lanterns who were flickering hopelessly. Was

Past days were awesome, Lost months were like blossom. Filled with love, joy, gain sometimes with tears, rains and some pain. Life like a bird knows how to fly, teaches not to give up , give it one more try.

In Retirement days, plant words on a page. Record in a booklet, give a little age. Let ripen, hide it away a few days. Later, re-evaluate, review, and renew. It is choice and lasting, or is it to re-do? Will

Having to watch the person You love the most Slowly start to lose interest in you It starts a little But you can’t point it out Things have become different Everything feels slightly off You can hear it You can

I believe, I had not arrived when you were arbitrating between naked steel and the truth. Violence were you. I was watching the burning pyres in a row. Small hands were collecting the ashes, casting glances on the falcons. Why

The Giant Banyan Tree in the country-side, Bunches of thick ropes hanging downward, Full of dark green leaves.Bats hanging from, Its branches with open wings.This ancient Banyan Tree has seen many ups and downs. Our grandmother’s village is calm and

If you come to me, I will show you my cupboard…….. photographs, paintings of old days, dead butterfly, dried snake skin, old is never gold, pain and anger…… broken leaves, dust around dead grasshopper, dead caterpillar, owl and mice. moon

I met myself the other day, In the mirror giving me a stare, Asking me questions in despair, Asking me if I really care? I looked away, outta the window, And the world has changed, In my backyard, I see

When you are in your native land Suddenly meeting an uncertain hour of setting winter eventide in clumsy manner, When the determined darkness striding too fast Mingles with receding rays of days last sun That down over crimson void. You

Sky drank the moon when night was cool. A lone tree on roadside waits for the prowling wolf to steal the electric skin like the veins on the breast. River was flowing nudging, cleaving the rising frenzy. Still the thirst

April 9th 1929, my father gasped his first breath of air Head populated with black curly locks No pediatrician at his home birth, when he uttered that initial blare Nor preschool instructors extant to teach him building blocks Inherent in

The lost soldier; He used to be a family’s shoulder Things happened that made him colder And act like a boulder Looking older Than his age Caused by rage And the many phases And stages Of his life The many

Little Jenny woke up and rushed to her granny. Granny sat by the window, gazing through ‘the window’ she held, Jenny gave her granny a peck and ran to her mama, Busy as ever, packing her darling’s lunch in ‘that

some things are not like other things late afternoon sun on snow a color different from all other colors intimation of warmth sprinkled on the essence of its opposite the fundamental substance of cold my shadow pointing east as I

The red, orange, yellow and gold Flamboyant falling leaves Stirs the autumn in my heart Compelling me to believe To love life’s every color with same vigor Why winter seems so long Fall so short Couldn’t it be longer My

I’m but an Autumn Leaf , Twirling, swirling with winds I play And oft stirred by a squirrel’s feet , The crowning glory now lost and sway All my greens are now russets, yellows, Rambling, roving in golden meadows I sing soft songs

Some people are capable of the most cowardly acts ever committed Of wounding a poor vulnerable homosexual’s body until he desperately cries his lungs out mortified Inflicting deep wounds of the flesh and then watching him slowly faint into unconsciousness

For long, we lived in our hearts ignoring the world. but now, the knocks have got louder and our hearts have grown heavier. you go your way, my love, I will find mine. for long, we lay under trees, holding

It was afternoon hot on summer mid And the sky was blazing with unspeakable boiling, But still was graced with pound of clouds Which bore timid promises to overcome the summer damages. Then it was coming of rain like an

…are as varied as they are inconsequential. All struck on a speck of a place, in a speck of time. Our very evolution built on infinitesemly small terrain. All that we think, all of the great contributions like so many

Our love is not the stuff of legends, of poisons, of letters written with blood. ours is the gentle, everyday love. of fingers run through hair. of legs thrown upon legs. of little things. of wearing each other’s clothes. of

It is, what do you not say I read the dusk on your eyes. Unspoken words hammering! A timer, quartz clock, ball bearings, pellets croissant of terror. Suspicious of the lady riding on crest responsible, for the happenings. Fear, hair

I tell you, there was something amazingly different about the way I felt. I’m no dreamer, psychic or seer, but there was imagination everywhere I paced the floor, wondering about the strong winds on a night so clear I could

After the moon it was an unkempt night. I wanted to kill the narrative and recast the frozen history. A dirt road leads to a new trajectory now, splattered with blood. A double tongued thought brings the ire of screaming